


Good Times

by IceNChrome



Series: What Happens on The Terror and Erebus... [2]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Fitzjames is cockblocking, Jopson is suspicious, M/M, Possessive Francis, Teasing, eye fucking, lewd behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 08:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceNChrome/pseuds/IceNChrome
Summary: Jopson finds evidence of strange goings-on in Crozier's cabin. Francis thinks he's being sly and Cornelius is his usual dirty self. Fitzjames drops in and is oblivious what Francis is up to...for now.





	Good Times

**Author's Note:**

> I was undecided for quite awhile if I should make this into a series or a big, long multi-chaptered story. I finally decided to just quit overthinking it and go for the series and have fun with it.

Jopson went into his Captain’s cabin to tidy up for the day now that Crozier was finally out and about. The Captain had slept unusually late this morning. Lord knows how long he’d entertained his odd company last night. Cornelius Hickey! Why in the world would the Captain even want to pass words with someone like _him_?

During his usual routine, he saw something shiny under the chair next to the window. He bent down to retrieve it and was surprised to see one of the buttons from Crozier’s trousers. How did that get under here? Those weren’t prone to just falling off, Jopson made sure all of the Captain’s wardrobe was in top condition. It would have taken some force to…

A little off to the right, on the floor under the lip of the bench was another button. Jopson collected that one and stood up, staring at them incredulously. He happened to look up and out the window at that point. The wan morning sun hit the window at the right angle and clearly showed what looked like a claw mark, only it was too small to belong to the creature. This was a mark made from the inside, as if someone ran their fingers through condensation. He leaned forward and traced the smudges with his own fingers. He felt a strange foreboding and stepped backward. He didn’t want to think about who’s fingers he’d just traced the path of.

*

Francis slept like a rock, for the first time in…forever maybe. He was used to tossing and turning. Nightmares. Racing thoughts. A few more drinks in the middle of the night. Passing out. He slept too late today, but was in a fine mood, if not a little distracted. Or maybe a lot distracted. His mind had new things to turn over, finally.

The weather was clear today but very cold, so cold the air itself felt as sharp as a knife blade. It was a blessing the winds were calm. He went out on deck under the pretense of overseeing the activity outside and how the ship and crew fared in general, but if he was honest with himself he wanted to find Cornelius Hickey and see what he was up to. Who did he talk to? Where is he spending his time? What occupies his attention? Mr. Hickey had been interesting for a while now, but after last night he’d moved up to the top of Crozier’s list. The question of whether or not he should be occupying that spot was a thought the Captain shooed away like an errant insect.

After much posturing about on deck, finally, Francis found his little lover. He stood over the spot where Hickey labored below while Mr. Blanky talked about the ice, and a few other less business-related subjects. Francis kept his eyes out along the horizon, but frequently he’d glance down at Hickey. Mr. Blanky moved along the rail to talk to someone else for a moment, and Francis stared directly down at Cornelius.

Hickey mostly ignored Crozier’s presence until that point, but he knew the Captain was there, and he knew he was under surreptitious yet intense scrutiny. He looked up and met Crozier’s eyes then slowly drew his bottom lip lightly between his teeth and closed his eyes for a moment. Crozier was a rock. He didn’t betray a hint of emotion but his stare was pure fire.

_Can’t take your eyes off me, Captain?_ Hickey thought as a devilish smile graced his features. Heat pooled in his stomach and shot through his entire body. The thought of having Crozier so enthralled turned him on maybe more than the sex they’d had the night before. He grinned up at Crozier shamelessly. The Captain didn’t return the grin, but assented with the faintest of nods.

Glancing around and finding himself unobserved by anyone but the Captain above him, Cornelius deliberately licked his lips then slid a hand between his legs moving it up and down over the bulge in his trousers. He was delighted when the thus far stoic Crozier blinked momentarily and swallowed hard. It might have been Mr. Hickey’s imagination, but he thought he saw the Captain’s hand tighten on the rail as well.

Crozier’s vision fixated solely on Cornelius Hickey’s tongue and then that lewd hand rubbing between his legs. It was just a quick second. A blink and you’d miss it moment, but it was there, and it was only for him. He felt a tidal wave of animal lust, an urge so deep and hot it defied description as his eyes locked with Hickey’s. He wanted to stalk down and take Hickey there in the snow. Fuck him like an animal right out in the open. A silent explosion erupted between them. Anything unfortunate enough to be caught in the middle of their gaze would have been incinerated on the spot!

_I’ve got you, Captain Crozier!_

“Get a move on, Mr. Hickey. No time for your lazing about.” Lieutenant Little remarked tiredly as he walked past, not really sparing Hickey a glance.

“Yes sir.” Hickey said, then grinned up at Crozier and gave him a wink. Cheeky little thing. This time Crozier cracked a faint smile back at him, in spite of himself.

The two of them carried on this game for awhile. Hickey would move on to a different task and soon enough, Crozier would be close by up on deck, watching him. After a short time of this all Crozier could think of when he looked at Hickey was the word ‘MINE’. He watched the others around Hickey to see if anyone else was being as attentive. Sergeant Tozer was never far away, he noticed. He didn’t know if that meant the marine was also admiring Hickey, or if he just happened to be in the vicinity. His eyes narrowed as he watched Tozer.

_Mind your distance, sergeant._

*

In general, the men were surprised at Crozier’s attentiveness today. Commander Fitzjames came along to see how he fared, and was pleased that Francis was up on deck, being seen. Giving presence. He was hard pressed to keep up with him as he wandered along the deck. His spirits seemed unusually high. James was pleasantly surprised. Whatever had improved the Captain’s mood was a blessing as far as he was concerned. He also didn’t seem to be suffering the ill effects of drink today, which was becoming more of an exception than the norm. Crozier seemed to be deep in thought quite often as well, which gave Fitzjames hope that a clearer mood had prevailed…finally…over the thus far dismal landscape of Crozier’s mind.

Fitzjames was right about one thing: Crozier’s thoughts were definitely clear that day. Of all the topics that should have been on Crozier’s mind however, the first and foremost was how long and hard he was going fuck Cornelius Hickey that night. What positions might he be able to get Cornelius into and how many times he’d make that sweet, lithe body of his shudder in climax. How many times might Francis be able to go with him? What other filthy delights could the little caulker’s mate introduce him to? How bad does Hickey have him?

So, so bad.

Francis was to be disappointed that night as James wanted to have dinner and get all of them together for some conversation that didn’t involve Sir John’s demise or their current predicament. Commander Fitzjames was one to try to raise spirits, and Francis could appreciate that, and certainly did…but he also had some spirits of his own he wanted to raise. Several times his thoughts turned to his new obsession and what he might be up to back on Terror. Was he sitting around with friends or alone? Was someone watching him right now, maybe having designs on him later? Did he hope Francis would send for him tonight? After that obscene display outside it certainly seemed like it.

Francis drank up heartily at dinner, inwardly toasting his new found happiness, ignoring all other concerns for the time being. All he really wanted to do was get back to the The Terror and the tarnished bit of treasure it held for him. Nobody else had to know though. Things got a little blurry. Then a lot. He even laughed at some of Fitzjames’ stories. These were good times tonight.

Good times…

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry [not sorry] Francis! Soon man, soon...


End file.
